


Our Fickle Fates

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Beatrix Deserved Better, Burmecian Sex, Correcting Square's Mistakes, F/F, Foot Jobs, Freya Deserved SO MUCH Better, Furry Sex, Leg Riding, Lesbian Sex, Tribadism, thigh riding, under table sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What if Destiny had been a little kinder to two warriors?  What if the love that Fate awarded each had actually been worthy of her?
Relationships: Beatrix (Final Fantasy IX)/Freya Crescent, Beatrix/Freya Crescent
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: Anonymous





	Our Fickle Fates

Freya knew it would rub her allies the wrong way that the she was still communicating with Beatrix after Queen Brahne had summoned Odin and destroyed the city of Cleyra. They were a forgiving lot, but since Garnet's well-being had been put on the line, Zidane was less than understanding. Regardless, their correspondences had been covert, not because Freya had anything to hide from her friends, but because the general was a well-known and feared individual. Beatrix, despite her reservations regarding Brahne's methods, was trying her best to be the angel on the devil woman's shoulder and, after finding that out, it was part of the reason the Burmecian made friendly with a former foe. Any word of Beatrix conspiring with those publicly declared enemies of the Crown would have gotten back to Brahne immediately and then where would Freya's vengeance be?

Regardless of the risk, Freya couldn't keep herself away from the lady knight. They had a lot more in common than she'd even considered, despite their very different backgrounds. Beatrix, though beautiful and well-spoken, was lonely. She'd built up walls, whether purposefully or not, to become the merciless general Alexandria knew and feared. And that was the greater part of the reason Freya remained in contact with Beatrix.

The Burmecian was guilty of such measures herself, the giant sandstorm around her hometown notwithstanding, after having faced so much tragedy in her younger years. By dwelling in the past she'd only perpetuated the presence of tragedy in her future and she'd chosen instead to live for the future, come what may. And if the future happened to include a certain lady knight, well...

===> \--+

Their first meeting had been completely by chance.

Freya had been the first to see the change in the steadfast Alexandrian during their battle against Zorn and Thorn's monstrous pets. Her belief in Queen Brahne had been weakened when the ruthless monarch had denounced her own daughter as a criminal for interfering with her mother's sinister plans, and they'd taken on Zorn and Thorn's monstrous pets together.

In the aftermath of the chance encounter with Sir Fratley and the loss of her brethren in Cleyra, Freya had actually run into Beatrix again much in the same way she had reunited with Zidane—in a pub. Uncertain of how to proceed, the group had fallen back to Lindblum, which was still in the process of being rebuilt in the aftermath of Atomos's cyclonic winds.

Freya had been mourning the irony of being forgotten by the one man she couldn't stop thinking about over a drink and the general had taken the seat next to her at the bar. Mixed emotions made it difficult not to glare at the woman who'd contributed to the destruction of an entire city in the span of a single Summon and, surprisingly enough, Beatrix had apologized immediately for her actions. It was incredibly gutsy of her to show her face here, despite the fact that the general population blamed Kuja for the tragedy that had transpired, but the Alexandrian seemed unconcerned by her infamy.

She offered to buy Freya another drink and the two got to talking about, well, everything. About the Queen and her building madness; the growing unrest of the Alexandrian army; Beatrix's own reservations; and even the good Freya and her allies had managed to achieve in their travels. They were still talking when the barkeep announced last call and it was only then that Freya realized they'd spent half the night together.

Freya greatly admired the lady knight as Beatrix was equal parts beautiful and powerful—not to mention well-spoken and intelligent. It was difficult not to feel self-conscious in the presence of the imposing older woman, but Beatrix was surprisingly personable once one got to know her. Over the course of their conversation, Freya felt that she'd gotten to know the brunette fairly well indeed.

When Freya stood, she teetered and would have fallen had it not been for her spear, which she leaned on like a cane, and a steadying hand from Beatrix.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." Freya shook her head, only to close green eyes when the action made the room swim.

There were several flagons sitting on counter where she'd been seated... were they really all hers? Her general unsteadiness was enough to confirm the answer to that question.

"I am renting a room upstairs. Would you like to rest there until you've regained your facilities?"

A little red flag at the back of her mind told her not to implicitly trust the woman who'd been her enemy only days prior, but the Dragoon acquiesced. Weariness weighed down her limbs, encouraging Freya to be cooperative when Beatrix slung the Burmecian's arm across her shoulders.

The single flight of stairs proved to be a worthy adversary to the tipsy Dragoon, but she overcame it with Beatrix's assistance. She followed the brunette to the end of the hall, where Beatrix opened the door on the left and they entered a modest room. In the entryway was an upholstered bench in front of a fireplace, in which embers smouldered, and on the opposite side a bed and a washbasin.

It didn't look as though the room had been used before this, calling into question the timeframe in which Beatrix had been renting it, but Freya didn't bring it up. She sat heavily on the bench, her tail slung over her arm to avoid any accidental crushing, and her hostess went to stoke the embers. When they sparked into a cheery blaze, Beatrix excused herself and left the room.

Freya glanced around again, looking for anything that could tell her about the enigmatic general. There were no personal effects that she could see—no clothes nor toiletries or even a rucksack—so either she was traveling light or this was meant to be a short trip. Beatrix returned and handed Freya a glass of water, which she accepted gratefully. One never realized how thirsty they are while imbibing.

"May I ask you something?"

Beatrix was full of questions, Freya had come to realize. It was strange considering the brusque aura she exuded. "Be my guest."

"Why are you traveling with that thief and the princess? You're not like them."

"How do you mean?"

The pause indicated that she was carefully choosing her phrasing and Freya shook her head. Leave it to the Alexandrian royal family to dig up dirt on their proposed enemies. Beatrix likely knew of her young age upon enlisting with the Dragon Knights and how she had come to meet Zidane. What then was the purpose of the question?

"We've all seen our share of hardships. I suppose the resolve to change the fate set before us is what binds us together."

Beatrix's expression was difficult to read. "I see."

"What about you?"

"Mm?"

"What is such an intelligent, refined woman doing at the head of the Alexandrian military? I imagine you don't lack other options considering your looks."

"What do you mean?" Beatrix had an eyebrow raised.

"You know..." Freya gestured vaguely. "Beautiful."

"Beautiful?" she echoed.

Freya's face heated, but it was far too late to reclaim the words. "Pay me no mind. What would a Burmecian know about human beauty?"

Beatrix was quiet. Then, she scooted closer on the bench and, after a moment's hesitation, took Freya's paw in her hand. "They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

Their gazes met and the cherry red of the flames reflected in the brunette's single red eye was alluring to say the least. Freya wasn't sure who leaned in first, but she had never kissed a human before and she had to angle her head so that her pointed snout wasn't in the way. The lack of fur around Beatrix's mouth was also strange, but not unpleasant, and the Burmecian shivered.

They parted, the chaste contact leaving both parties curiously warm and wanting for more. It was Freya who broke the silence: "I didn't..." She actually wasn't sure what she'd meant to say and trailed off lamely as a result. "It's late."

Beatrix's lips quirked at the corners. "Yes. Be safe on your way back to your friends."

Freya checked over her shoulder several times on the way out of town. She even took the long way and doubled back twice just to ensure she wasn't being followed by a group of Alexandrian soldiers with orders to kill them on sight. By the time she arrived at the clearing where they had bunked down for the night, she was exhausted and there were only a few hours of sleep left between her and a full day's travel.

As the Burmecian collapsed onto her bedroll, she couldn't help but wonder if Beatrix was already asleep.

===> \--+

What was it that had sparked the change from respect to affection? Sir Fratley's amnesia had been a crippling blow to Freya's inexplicable fear of being forgotten. Abandoned. Lonely.

Lost in this world like young Vivi. Freya wasn't sure what was worse: being forgotten or forgetting everything. What she did know was she didn't want either scenario to happen.

And Beatrix... The way she looked at the Burmecian made Freya feel as though she was always on the general's mind.

===> \--+

Then came their invasion of Alexandria Castle. Zidane, Vivi, Steiner, and Freya had come to rescue Garnet from Zorn and Thorn, who they'd later found out had the unique ability to extract Eidolons from their Summoners.

Beatrix had engaged the intruders and proven to be a force of nature, defeating all four of them without mussing up a single perfectly coiffed ringlet, and the Burmecian would be lying if she said she hadn't been impressed. The tension could have been cut with a knife as they plead their case to the impassive general, and Freya wasn't certain they'd be successful in securing the unconscious princess. Zidane was out of his mind with worry, but at the rate he was pushing himself he wouldn't be in any condition to make it to Garnet's side, much less rescue her.

It was then that Freya tried her luck at swaying the lady knight. The girl slept like death, kept that way by Kuja's sleep spell. Could she really call herself a loyal Alexandrian if she allowed the princess to remain in such a state?

At first, Beatrix had simply stared, the gears turning behind a red eye as she looked past the defeated heroes. Then their gazes met again, just as they had that night, and suddenly the brunette seemed to have a change of heart.

Could it have been coincidence? Freya hazarded another glance at the woman who led them as they mounted the stairs towards Garnet's location, her heart beating fast. Or had it mattered to her because it had been Freya who said it?

Beatrix had cast a spell that awakened Garnet, as if that had been an easy task, and announced that she could not longer trust the Queen with the fate of Alexandria. The Tantalus rogues, Markus and Blank, had been in attendance and, together, the newly formed underground resistance secreted Garnet, Zidane, and Vivi out of the castle. Beatrix's support had made all the difference and, before they parted ways again, Freya managed to pull the general to the side.

It was dangerous for her to remain in the castle—doubly so now that she had acted against Brahne—but Beatrix wouldn't hear any of it.

"I thank you for your concern, but it is my duty to serve the royal family."

"Garnet is a member of the royal family, isn't she? Come with us."

For a moment, Beatrix seemed to consider. Her expression softened and she reached out and cupped Freya's cheek. "I know now that the princess is in good hands. I leave her in your capable hands."

All Freya could think about was kissing her again.

===> \--+

It didn't take long for those chaste cravings to evolve into something more. A seed had been planted that bloomed whenever night fell, plaguing her dreams with visions of nubile flesh and slick heat.

When Freya awoke, heart racing and body more than a little warm, she'd take a walk to cool down and sometimes even a dip if there was a suitable body of water nearby. Those nights began to wear on her both physically and mentally and part of her wished for insomnia so that the siren's song of her dreams didn't tantalize her like the sweetest of tortures.

Insomnia would have been far less frustrating.

===> \--+

Freya could have sworn she'd seen Brahn's personal airship, the Red Rose, pass along the mountain range on their way towards Aerbs Peak Station. They were Treno-bound for some card game tournament Zidane was taking part in and, though Freya could care less about that, she'd wanted to do some sightseeing in the Dark City. She'd made some headway getting the mercenary, Amarant, to open up and, though he was a wanted man in Treno, he'd decided to accompany them.

Since this station was the midpoint between the Aerbs Lindblum Station in Lindblum and Aerbs Alexandria Station, the travelers deigned to visit its rest area. There were several shops and the local cafe was famous for its bundt cake, which Eiko insisted they visit. While her friends ate cake, Freya wandered off towards the dock.

It was meant for the cable cars primarily, but there was a landing pad for the smaller personal use ships. Sure enough Beatrix appeared out of thin air, likely having used a teleportation pod aboard the Red Rose, and it didn't take long for her to notice she was being observed. She waved, a smile gracing her lips, and Freya waved back. In light of her more recent dreams, it was difficult to look at Beatrix without feeling equal parts excitement and guilt.

How was it that their paths kept crossing?

The Red Rose explained Beatrix's ability to travel so quickly and quietly. While the vessel was easily recognizable up close, being Queen Brahne's personal vessel, the ability to warp guaranteed that she wouldn't be seen arriving at her destination.

But why was Beatrix commanding the Queen's airship?

"Queen Brahne has turned her sights on the Outer Continent." Ah. There was no Mist there and therefore no need for a Mist-propelled airship. "She wishes to destroy Kuja now that she has accomplished her goal of conquering the Mist Continent. I've been trying to talk her out of it... There's still so little we know about him."

That was troubling news. "I'll assume your attempts fall on deaf ears."

"Mhm. I've stalled her as best I can, but I'm not sure how much longer she'll wait. I have a bad feeling about that mage and my instincts are rarely wrong."

"Oh? As I recall, you first thought I was a pathetic rodent."

It was said only partially in jest and Beatrix frowned. "I did say rarely... I am happy to admit now that I was wrong and that I am sorry."

Eiko's eyes went round when she saw Beatrix in Freya's wake. Her mouth was full, but her gesturing drew the attention of the others, who were instantly on guard. Apparently Freya had been the only one to spot the Red Rose.

Amarant, who hadn't faced the general himself, sized the woman up, his fist under his chin. Beatrix met his gaze coolly until he shrugged and looked away.

And just like that, the tension dispersed.

"Apologies, I cannot stay long and risk being seen with you." Beatrix bowed at the waist. "I'm simply here for some bundt cake."

It seemed a ridiculous statement considering her role in Alexandria's ongoing war, but Freya looked more closely at the woman as she spoke. Beatrix looked tired; there was a dark circle beneath a single red eye and the stress of her position was weighing on slender shoulders. She kept her head high, but it was clear at least to Freya, that she wasn't her normal self.

"Thanks again for helping us, by the way," Zidane said. Garnet had gone to the restroom and, as such, he could be open and honest without getting as embarrassed. "I owe you one."

"It was my duty," Beatrix said simply. Freya half expected her to jest about honour among thieves, but she only added, "Give the princess my regards."

After bidding them farewell, the brunette made for the storefront. Freya made an excuse that she, too, wanted to purchase some seeing as Eiko had eaten the portion they'd purchased for her, and followed suit.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"But would you tell me if you weren't?"

Beatrix smiled minutely. "No."

Freya shook her head. "While you're taking care of queen and kingdom, who is taking care of you?"

"I suppose I do have a fierce Dragoon in my corner." Beatrix smiled playfully and, in that moment, the veil of weariness lifted.

Freya's heart hammered against her ribcage. "Beatrix..."

The brunette turned to address the kindly woman manning the window, leaving the Burmecian to fidget and turn over half a dozen things she hadn't managed to say in her head. Then, her cake in a brown bag tucked under her arm, Beatrix took Freya's paw in hand and gave it a meaningful squeeze. "I'll be seeing you."

When or even where that would be, neither of them could say, but Freya couldn't wait.

===> \--+

Despite Beatrix's reputation and the multiple occasions Freya had seen the lady knight in action, she was worried that perhaps the brunette had bitten off more than she could chew.

Brahne's power was absolute and, short of a full-blown rebellion, there was no way they'd be able to free Gaia from her grasp. Beatrix was incredibly naive to think she could convince a woman obsessed.

But then, how was that any different from the would-be heroes that had been to hell and back—all for a thief's love of the princess? They'd all been rallied under Zidane's flag for one reason or another despite race, Creed, or walk of life and, though he faced incredible odds, they stood by the boy.

Was that truly what loyalty entailed? Would Beatrix ever be able to show Freya the same sort of devotion?

===> \--+

It was slow going, traveling with a recuperating Garnet. With a bounty on their heads, they couldn't risk flying aboard their airship or renting a new one. Which meant the group had to travel on foot.

Well, mostly.

"Kweh!" The large yellow Chocobo crowed, tail feathers rustling cheerily. Garnet was leaning against his neck and he kept trying to turn and nuzzle her. Eiko was the only other person small enough to ride with the princess and Zidane kept shooting her jealous looks while she wrapped her arms around Garnet's waist and blew a raspberry. The young Summoner had long since decided that if she couldn't have him, she would make his relationship with Garnet a trial.

Freya shook her head at their childish antics. Her own steed was an unusual reddish hue and she'd befriended it in the Chocobo's Forest some years ago, during her search for Sir Fratley. A bond between Chocobo and rider was an unbreakable one and calling out to the beast, Gysahl Greens in hand, had summoned her almost immediately.

Amarant was a short distance ahead of them on foot, his long strides clearing ground at a steady rate. He seemed almost eager to reach their destination.

There was still several hundred kilometers between them and their destination. Freya was starting to nod off from the soothing rocking motion of her Chocobo when Garnet called softly, "Hey, Freya."

Freya nudged her Chocobo so that it fell into stride between Garnet's. Eiko had succumbed to her sleepiness and was cradled in the princess's lap while Zidane had hustled to catch up with Amarant. He was likely pissing the mercenary off with his attempts to be chummy.

"What is it? Do we need to stop?"

"No, I'm fine." Her smile was tinged with tiredness despite her reassurance. "I heard you ran into Beatrix earlier. How is she?"

"Well enough," Freya answered vaguely. What she really wanted to do was query why Garnet was asking her about it. Instead, she waited patiently for the dark-haired young woman to continue.

"You two seem close."

The comment caught her completely off guard despite herself and Freya barked out incredulous laughter as a knee-jerk reaction. "What makes you say that?"

"Call it a Summoner's intuition."

Green eyes narrowed. Had Garnet seen something she shouldn't have? Her pretty face was the very image of guileless curiosity. Finally, she admitted, "Perhaps."

"I'm happy for you."

Freya didn't think she could be blindsided twice in a row and her jaw went slack.

Oblivious to her expression, Garnet continued, "She's a great woman. I've known her since childhood and everything she's ever done has been to serve Alexandria. She deserves to be happy and you do, too."

Garnet, the princess with a heart of gold. Freya smiled and nodded. She still wasn't sure if she was simply transparent or even if Garnet was the only one who knew of her interest in the Alexandrian general—it was just nice to know someone supported her decision.

===> \--+

While the nature and designation of their relationship was still... uncertain, Freya knew exactly how she felt about Beatrix. And about how Beatrix made her feel. All that was left was to get the lady knight in one place so they could discuss more serious matters.

That was, naturally, easier said than done. It was difficult, with her limited time and resources, to keep track of Beatrix. Like a stray cat, she appeared when she was so inclined to and disappeared just as quickly.

Freya was also at a disadvantage as far as experience went. She'd been so wrapped up in her one-sided romance with Sir Fratley she'd neglected to engage in any sort of meaningful relationship with anyone else. As head of the all female Alexandrian army, Beatrix had probably had scores of willing partners which was a disheartening thought. O-of course, the brunette would have been selective in anyone she seemed worthy of her attentions—which only opened up an entirely different can of worms: why her? There would always be that niggling doubt, but if the Burmecian kept asking herself questions, she'd drive herself insane.

When your "foe" outclasses you, sometimes the only chance at victory is a sneak attack.

===> \--+

This time, Beatrix had actually come looking for Freya. It felt innately wrong to meet with her in an alleyway in the Dark City, regardless of their intentions, but then she was teleported into the Red Rose in an instant. The woman who had warped them up saluted and Beatrix remarked quietly that this was one of the few soldiers she could trust implicitly with matters of discretion.

"Queen Brahne and the royal navy are bound for the Outer Continent to deal with Kuja," Beatrix said, once they were safely in her quarters.

"And you?"

"I... Will not be aboard the main ship, but I intend to be close at hand. If I can come to her Majesty's aid in her time of need, I can still call myself a loyal Alexandrian."

Because that's what mattered most to the renown general, wasn't it? Her loyalty to her country. It defined her being, it guided her actions, and it drove her to forgive even a woman as vile and rotten as Brahne because of the station she held.

Freya smiled humourlessly. "God save the Queen."

Beatrix sighed and embraced the Burmecian, resting her forehead on the taller woman's shoulder. "This is madness."

Freya hugged her back and wished she could take the weight off of the woman's shoulders. She pressed a kiss to the side of Beatrix's head, daring to run her claws gently through perfect ringlets. Beatrix smelled of roses and the open air—clean, natural scents tainted with the acridity of metal.

She couldn't help but peer around curiously over the brunette's head. Beatrix quarters were large considering the airship's size and sparsely decorated save a few medals and commendations. The most prominent item in the room was the Alexandrian standard and, in front of it, a bouquet of roses.

"Someone sent you flowers?"

"Likely one of the Knights of Pluto." That rubbed the Burmecian the wrong way for some reason and she made a quiet sound. Beatrix stirred. "Are you jealous?"

Was that the ugly feeling twisting in her stomach? She didn't have reason to be, but then one couldn't very well control their emotions. "... No."

"Freya..." Beatrix was smiling, mischief sparkling in her eye.

"... Perhaps."

The kiss was a pleasant surprise and Freya wrapped her arms more tightly around Beatrix. She poured her pent up feelings from the last few weeks into the contact and was rewarded with a soft moan. Emboldened, Freya began walking Beatrix backwards, towards the narrow bunk. It was just barely large enough for the two of them and it squeaked audibly beneath their weight.

Now, poised above the woman, Freya faltered. She couldn't very well use clawed hands to satisfy Beatrix and she had absolutely no experience with, er, cunnilingus. Her face heated at the very thought.

Beatrix chuckled and pulled Freya back down to kiss her again. As she did so, she plucked the hat off of the Burmecian's head and Freya averted her gaze. She felt bare without it and having Beatrix look at her dead on was somewhat overwhelming.

"Hey..." The butterflies in her stomach had nothing to do with her self-consciousness—not when Beatrix was looking at her like that. "You're cute. You know that?"

"I resent that."

That drew a low laugh and the brunette shifted, positioning her legs so that she was straddling Freya's thigh. Beatrix gripped Freya's hips as she began moving against her; the Burmecian caught on quickly, pressing firmly against the apex of the brunette's thighs in an attempt to provide friction and she was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

They kissed again, the soft sounds Beatrix made muffled by Freya's lips. The brunette managed to loosen the front of the crimson garb the Burmecian wore and began petting the soft, pale fur at her sternum, her expression impossibly tender, and Freya shivered.

She wanted the woman naked. Now.

Freya managed to push Beatrix's blouse up so that it exposed her breast bindings and a spike of impatience caused her to tear them to ribbons. Beatrix's eyebrow rose, but then her head fell back as the Burmecian nuzzled between her breasts. Rosy pink nipples were so beautiful—just like the rest of the lady knight. Freya showed her appreciations by carefully palming one pale swells while she licked around the pert peak of its twin.

A little thrill of excitement went through Freya as Beatrix's hips began to rock in earnest, practically rutting against her thigh. There was no way this would be enough to satisfy the woman... Was it? Her answer came, quite literally, in the form of an arched back and a quiet whimper as Beatrix bit her lip to keep from crying out.

In the afterglow, Freya rolled over so that she was underneath the diminutive brunette and Beatrix cuddled into her. They both knew they wouldn't be able to stay like this long.

"Take me with you." Freya said it so quietly she wasn't sure Beatrix had even heard.

The brunette tensed, dispelling any doubt that she'd missed the quiet plea. "Absolutely not."

<=== +--

They didn't say a word as they made their way back to the teleport pods and warped back down to Treno together. Beatrix kissed Freya chastely, promising her everything would be fine.

Freya stayed where she was, long after Beatrix had taken her leave. When finally the Burmecian convinced her limbs to cooperate, she made her way back to her friends.

Her absence had not gone unnoticed. Though she'd tried to be quick about it when Beatrix's messenger had summoned her, their... unplanned activity had detained her for longer than intended.

"Is everything okay, Freya? We were looking everywhere for you."

"I had some business to attend to."

They believed her without question—and why wouldn't they?

She couldn't very well tell them of Brahne's plan for fear that Garnet would try to intervene. Familial love was so much stronger than a series of betrayals and it was just like Garnet to forgive and forget. The princess would want to return to her mother's side—

... She wasn't proud of herself, but telling Garnet about Brahne's plan would likely be the best thing for her if she wanted to run into Beatrix again before the prideful woman got herself killed. As predicted, the warm-hearted princess had wanted to go to her mother immediately, in hopes of putting an end to her madness.

Zidane wasn't exactly a welcome guest of the castle, so it was decided that Freya and Amarant would escort Garnet while he and Eiko stuck to the original plan of visiting Treno for the Tetra Masters tournament.

Freya smiled tightly as she helped Garnet onto her Chocobo and Amarant mounted the one the princess had previously been riding. It would be a long, hard ride, but she wouldn't rest until she was at Beatrix's side.

<=== +--

Present day...

Garnet is the new queen, her mother slain by the man who she'd enlisted the help of to subjugate the Continents.

According to Garnet, Brahne had been apologetic in her final moments, perhaps having reconsidered her tyranny in the face of her approaching death. The kingdom remembered her fondly, as far as they could tell, and no mention of her descent into madness had been mentioned by anyone in the mass of mourners who showed up for her burial. Beatrix and Steiner remain a constant presence at the newly-coronated queen's side, but it seems unnecessary given how well-received Garnet is by the public.

Perhaps this time around the Crown can do some good for Alexandria and rebuild its relationship with other kingdoms.

Meanwhile... Beatrix and Freya have spent a lot of time getting to know each other while they await the attack they knew will come in the sudden lull following Brahne's death. It's only a matter of time and Zidane and the others are on high alert even as the peaceful days melt into weeks.

As long as Kuja remains at large, the tenuous peace can snap like dried kindling. No one would be able to move on with their lives until he is dealt with accordingly.

<=== +--

Freya crosses her legs, her foot brushing along the length of Beatrix's calf, and the woman falters mid-sentence. They are dining in the kitchen while the queen dines with nobility in the hall adjacent.

"I once killed a hundred knights single-handedly... to me, you two are nothing more than insects."

Was this really the warrior who had so callously claimed that what felt like a lifetime ago?

Freya snickers, positioning her foot so that it rests squarely in the brunette's lap. Beatrix begins to squirm in her seat, her cheeks flushed even as she scowls at her dining partner.

Don't you dare, that single red eye warns.

Freya smiles pleasantly as she pushes the sole of her foot firmly against the apex of Beatrix's thighs, prompting a low sound that the brunette muffles by quickly lifting her napkin to her mouth. Her expression would have made a lesser man soil himself, but it only serves to fan the flames of Freya's arousal. She does so enjoy seeing the regal woman's guard come crashing down and has been perfecting methods of making that happen.

It's well worth the "punishment" she'll face later.

There's still kitchen staff milling about, so Beatrix isn't able to retaliate just yet, and Freya takes advantage of that fact. She continues to push, continues to stroke, and the barriers of panty and propriety are pathetic before her passionate pressure. Beatrix is caught inextricably, unable to retreat with her back against the chair, forced by their surroundings to choke off whimpers that no one but Freya could ever have credited coming from the mighty general's lips.

It doesn't take long. Where Freya's feet are involved, it never does; Freya does not know if humans usually appreciate lower appendages like this, but Beatrix, at least, enjoys an erotic fixation with Freya's paws and claws as great as any Burmecian would. Freya is all too happy to indulge her on this matter...and also to take shameless advantage of it.

She calls a staff member over even as Beatrix bites her lip in a futile attempt to hide or stave off her approaching climax, and as her eye silently begs with equal futility Freya not to. Freya then says politely, winking at Beatrix as she speaks, "Dinner is delicious, Amalie. Compliments to the chef."

As the blonde woman beams, Freya rubs her foot against Beatrix's sex through her leggings extra hard, right against her clit, and she curls her toes just slightly, enough to trail delightful, scratching nails against Beatrix's torso. There's a solid sound followed by the clatter of flatware as the general starts and her knees knock into the low table. Freya's smile grows. That was an especially good one, as expected; Beatrix always has her strongest orgasms against Freya's feet.

"What was that?"

Beatrix's smile is strained. "I hit m-my kn-kneeeee o-on the table as I was..w-was, getting up...!"

That she can even speak this well at this moment might just be the most impressive example of Beatrix's strength that Freya has witnessed to date.

"You're leaving? But you've hardly touched your food..."

"I'm not h-hungry!" It's said perhaps a bit more forcefully than intended as a result of her state and Beatrix clears her throat. "Apologies. I just remembered we have somewhere to be."

Freya is dragged bodily from the room by the wrist not a moment later.

<===

\--+

This is technically Beatrix's bedroom, but Freya spends most nights here as well, though the majority of her belongings were stored in a guest room in the opposite wing. The four poster bed is a more recent upgrade to the previous one, funded by their generous and supportive queen, and it's the only elaborate object in the woman's possession. Beatrix isn't one for ornamentation and that practicality is evident in her decorative aesthetic.

There's an attached bathroom, for which Beatrix makes a beeline and draws a bath for them. As the washtub fills with hot water from the mess of pipes feeding up from the lower levels of the castle, the brunette removes Freya's clothes with practiced hands. Her task complete, Beatrix swats the Burmecian on the rump and Freya shivers and climbs into the tub.

Despite Beatrix's earlier haste, the brunette takes care to bathe her partner thoroughly, her fingertips brushing over sensitive parts of Freya's anatomy as she rubs the bar of lye soap over the Burmecian's lanky frame. Freya can't help but squirm as a result of Beatrix's ministrations, and when the brunette's hand dips below the water to cup her sex, she parts her thighs eagerly.

Beatrix's fingertips push past the denser fur at the apex of the Burmecian's thighs, teasing her slit, and Freya cries out softly, her hips twitching.

"We should continue this in the bedroom..."

There's still some measure of self-consciousness on the Burmecian's part as she sits, nude, at the foot of the bed, and she folds her arms over her chest and crosses one leg over the other. Beatrix doesn't miss a beat as she kneels before Freya and kisses each of the toe pads of the broad paw left elevated as a result of her posture.

Not for the first time, Freya is struck by the gravity of having one of the most powerful women in Alexandria, nobility aside, in the palm of her hand. Beatrix's expression is rapturous as she massages and lavishes kisses on the Burmecian's feet. She showers them with affection whenever she can; Freya could not ask for a better lover, even in a Burmecian, and soon she is gasping, even mewling at the pleasure being lavished upon this erogenous zone.

Beatrix pushes Freya onto her back and she scoots backwards to make room for the brunette. They kiss, the brunette running her hands over Freya's front; the Burmecian has breasts, as a woman should, but they're covered in a smooth layer of soft fur save the nipples, which are a dusky shade. While she pinches and rolls sensitive buds between long fingers, Beatrix is positioning herself oddly, one leg braced over Freya's hip and the other under the opposite knee.

When she lowers herself, Freya understands immediately what she's trying to do when their slick lower lips come into firm contact with each other. The resulting jolt of electric heat makes Freya whimper and, when she bucks in an instinctive effort to prolong the sensation, Beatrix's handling of her breasts becomes rougher.

Freya cries out, the pain-pleasure causing a hot wet rush down below. Beatrix is grinning wickedly as she shifts her grip to Freya's knee to anchor herself and begins to grind their sexes together in earnest. Soon the room is filled with the squeak of the bedsprings. Beatrix is a sopping wet mess thanks to her earlier attentions, if the slick friction is anything to go by, but Freya isn't in much better condition as she gyrates in near-sync with the brunette's hips. It takes some doing to find an angle that suits them both, but once they have, the duo begins moving in earnest.

A sheen of sweat breaks out on pale skin and Beatrix is the first to tense and shudder. Freya is close behind, pleasure washing over her in a hot current as her partner slumps over her, panting.

<===

\--+

"GENERAL!" The knocking is urgent and Beatrix pulls the bedsheet up to preserve Freya's modesty before getting out of bed. She wraps the heavy coverlet around herself as she goes and, the moment she opens the door, a female soldier rushes in. "It's horrible: the castle is under attack! We believe it's—" Wide eyes wander and the woman goes red. "A-apologies, Ma'am. I didn't realize you had company."

"What is this about an attack?" Beatrix prompts.

"It's Kuja."

Her modesty all but forgotten, Freya throws her legs over the side of the bed and began to reclaim her discarded clothes. It takes only a few minutes before they are both on the stairway, bound for the throne room where Garnet and the others await them.

Beatrix's fight is her own and she will protect the land the general kept near and dear to her heart with all she has.

<===

\--+

The commotion outside can scarcely be heard from the tower where Beatrix's room is. They're celebrating the incredible defeat of Kuja at the hands of the castle itself and the return of actual peace, but Beatrix isn't in a very celebratory mood. The fight had been taxing, as fights tend to be, but it had also been eye-opening.

Her heart heavy, Beatrix pushes open the solid wood door and steps out into the night. The air is cool and she rubs her arms in an effort to stave off a shiver. A cloak is draped around her shoulders and she flinches, but it's only Steiner.

That kind, caring, oblivious fool. She had hoped to slip away unnoticed; his presence makes her departure a hundred times more difficult.

"I'm taking my leave of Alexandria castle. From this day forward..." The words catch in her throat and she lets the sentence go on unfinished.

"You can't mean that, Bea." He doesn't call her that often. The affection behind the pet name makes her chest tighten.

Beatrix breathed in deeply. Then, before she can change her mind, she unhooks the sheath at her hip and wordlessly hands her sword to Steiner.

His eyes go round, his hands closing around the grip and pommel out of surprise. "Save the Queen..."

Steiner tries to return it to her, but Beatrix takes a step backwards. Her stomach twists, but she is resolute when she says, "The Queen is in your hands now."

"Beatrix, wait!" Her back is to him. All she has to do is walk away, but his beseeching tone gives her pause. "I... don't wish to lose you again. Let us protect the Queen together."

"...I'm sorry, Steiner. "

As a general, she'd weathered innumerable dangers in the name of Alexandria. She was the cream of the Alexandrian crop because of her strength and willingness to follow orders without question. She'd slain those labeled "enemy," not by logic or action, but by decree of her Majesty and created a reputation for herself as a calculating killer as a result. No matter where she went, that reputation would follow her and make it difficult to connect with others.

As a woman, she'd put her love life on the back burner with the firm belief that such distractions would only dull her combat abilities. She'd never made any friends within the ranks of her subordinates and those who seemed loyal to her at the time were bound to her by fear. Such a lonely existence had worn away at her sense of self worth, further solidifying her loyalty to a cause that allowed her to act without considering the hard truths—about her country and about herself.

Steiner, too, is fiercely loyal—though arguably he is a better person for not having fallen prey to blindness brought on by that loyalty. His shared convictions and record of combat excellence make him a viable love interest and his good looks don't hurt. At one time Beatrix could have fallen in love with this man, but now her heart belongs to another.

Her staunch loyalty had lead her to pay homage to the Alexandrian royal family with blood, sweat, and tears. Beatrix isn't willing to let Freya pay that same price and that's what staying would mean for the Burmecian. Beatrix had given the kingdom her best years, but now it was time to start living for herself.

Without a backwards glance, Beatrix disappears into the night. Somewhere in the crowd Freya, and their future, awaits her.


End file.
